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NETWORKS AND TELECOMMUNICATIONS SERIES

VoLTE and ViLTE

Voice and Conversational Video Services
over the 4G Mobile Network

André Perez
VoLTE and ViLTE
 VoLTE and ViLTE

Voice and Conversational Video Services

over the 4G Mobile Network

André Perez
First published 2016 in Great Britain and the United States by ISTE Ltd and John Wiley & Sons, Inc.

Apart from any fair dealing for the purposes of research or private study, or criticism or review, as
permitted under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988, this publication may only be reproduced,
stored or transmitted, in any form or by any means, with the prior permission in writing of the publishers,
or in the case of reprographic reproduction in accordance with the terms and licenses issued by the
CLA. Enquiries concerning reproduction outside these terms should be sent to the publishers at the
undermentioned address:

ISTE Ltd John Wiley & Sons, Inc.

27-37 St George’s Road 111 River Street
London SW19 4EU Hoboken, NJ 07030
UK USA

www.iste.co.uk www.wiley.com

© ISTE Ltd 2016

The rights of André Perez to be identified as the author of this work have been asserted by him in
accordance with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.

Library of Congress Control Number: 2016938934

British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data

A CIP record for this book is available from the British Library
ISBN 978-1-84821-923-6
 Contents

Preface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . ix

List of Abbreviations . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . xv

Chapter 1. Network Architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1

1.1. EPS network . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
1.1.1. Functional architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 1
1.1.2. Protocol architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 5
1.1.3. Bearers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 8
1.2. IMS network . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
1.2.1. Functional architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 12
1.2.2. Protocol architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 17
1.3. Databases . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18
1.3.1. Functional architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18
1.3.2. Protocol architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 18
1.4. Charging associated with IMS network . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19
1.4.1. Functional architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 19
1.4.2. Protocol architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
1.5. PCC function . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
1.5.1. Functional architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
1.5.2. Protocol architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 22
1.6. DIAMETER routers . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 23
1.7. ENUM system . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 24
1.8. IPX network . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25

Chapter 2. Signaling Protocols . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27

2.1. NAS protocol . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 27
2.1.1. EMM messages . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 28
vi VoLTE and ViLTE

2.1.2. ESM messages . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30

2.2. RRC protocol . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 32
2.2.1. System information . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 36
2.2.2. Control of RRC connection . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 37
2.2.3. Measurement report . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 39
2.3. S1-AP protocol . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 40
2.3.1. Context management . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 42
2.3.2. Bearer management . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43
2.3.3. Mobility management . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 43
2.3.4. S1-MME interface management . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45
2.4. X2-AP protocol . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 45
2.4.1. Mobility management . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 46
2.4.2. Load management . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 47
2.4.3. X2 interface management . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 48
2.5. GTPv2-C protocol . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 49
2.5.1. Bearer management . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 51
2.5.2. Mobility management . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 52
2.6. SIP protocol . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53
2.6.1. Requests . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 53
2.6.2. Responses . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 57
2.7. SDP protocol . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 60
2.8. DIAMETER protocol . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61
2.8.1. Application to EPS network . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 61
2.8.2. Application to IMS network . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 62
2.8.3. Application to PCC function . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 64

Chapter 3. Basic Procedures . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69

3.1. Attachment . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 69
3.2. Registration . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 75
3.3. Deregistration . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 84
3.4. Detachment . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 85
3.5. Establishment of VoLTE session . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87
3.5.1. Originating side . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 87
3.5.2. Terminating side . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 94
3.6. Termination of VoLTE session . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 98
3.6.1. Initiated side . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 99
3.6.2. Received side . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 100
3.7. Establishment of ViLTE session . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 101
3.8. Termination of ViLTE session . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 104
3.9. Emergency call . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 106
 Contents vii

Chapter 4. Radio Interface Procedures . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109

4.1. Radio interface . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 109
4.1.1. Data link sub-layer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 110
4.1.2. Logical channels . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 113
4.1.3. Transport channels . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 114
4.1.4. Physical layer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 114
4.1.5. Physical signals . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 121
4.1.6. Physical channels . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 122
4.2. Procedures . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 124
4.2.1. Access control . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 124
4.2.2. Data transfer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 130

Chapter 5. Service Profiles . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147

5.1. Subscription data . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147
5.1.1. Subscription to the EPS network . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 147
5.1.2. Subscription to the IMS network . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 148
5.2. VoLTE profile service . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 150
5.2.1. Supplementary telephone services . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 150
5.2.2. Audio flow . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 167
5.3. ViLTE profile service . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 170
5.3.1. Supplementary conversational video service . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 170
5.3.2. Video flow . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 171

Chapter 6. Interconnections . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 173

6.1. Interconnection CS network . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 173
6.1.1. Functional architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 173
6.1.2. Protocol architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 175
6.1.3. Session establishment . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 181
6.1.4. Session termination . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 190
6.2. Interconnection with IMS network . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 192
6.2.1. Functional architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 192
6.2.2. Session establishment . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 193

Chapter 7. Handover . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 199

7.1. Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 199
7.2. Handover based on X2 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 201
7.2.1. Handover based on X2 without relocation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 201
7.2.2. Handover based on X2 with relocation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 205
7.3. Handover based on S1 . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 207
7.3.1. Handover based on S1 without relocation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 207
7.3.2. Handover based on S1 with relocation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 211
viii VoLTE and ViLTE

7.4. PS-PS inter-system handover . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 218

7.4.1. Functional architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 218
7.4.2. Procedure. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 220

Chapter 8. Roaming. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 223

8.1. Functional architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 223
8.1.1. Roaming applied to the EPS network . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 223
8.1.2. Roaming applied to the IMS network . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 224
8.2. Procedures . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 228
8.2.1. Session establishment for nominal routeing . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 228
8.2.2. Session establishment for optimal routeing. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 235

Chapter 9. Service Centralization and Continuity . . . . . . . . . . . . . 243

9.1. ICS function . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 243
9.1.1. Functional architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 243
9.1.2. Procedures . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 246
9.2. e-SRVCC function . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 255
9.2.1. Functional architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 255
9.2.2. Procedures . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 260

Chapter 10. Short Message Service . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 273

10.1. Message structure . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 273
10.1.1. SM-TL layer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 274
10.1.2. SM-RL layer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 275
10.1.3. SM-CL layer . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 275
10.2. SMS over SGsAP . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 276
10.2.1. Functional architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 276
10.2.2. Procedures . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 277
10.3. SMS over SIP . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 282
10.3.1. Functional architecture . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 282
10.3.2. Procedures . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 283

Bibliography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 289

Index . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 295
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 Preface

This book presents the mechanisms used in the 4G evolved packet system
(EPS) mobile network and in the IP Multimedia sub-system (IMS) for the
supply of voice over long term evolution (VoLTE) and video over long term
evolution (ViLTE) service (Figure 1).

IMS IMS

Bearer

IP packet
SIP

UE UE
IP packet
A B
RTP
EPS EPS
Bearer

Operator A Operator B

Figure 1. Implementation of VoLTE or ViLTE services

The EPS network does not provide telephone service because it does not
deal with telephone signaling.
x VoLTE and ViLTE

The EPS network operates in packet-switched (PS) mode and acts as the
transport of internet protocol (IP) packets through bearers.

The EPS network, therefore, transfers the IP packets containing voice or

video real-time transport protocol (RTP) streams or telephone signaling
session initiation protocol (SIP).

Telephone or videophone service is provided by the IMS network which

provides the functions as follows:
– routing the call;
– supplementary telephone and videophone services;
– interconnection to the third-party networks.
Chapter 1 presents the architecture of EPS and IMS networks and these
networks environment: databases, charging, policy and charging control
(PCC), DIAMETER routing, ENUM system and internet protocol exchange
(IPX).

Chapter 2 presents various signaling protocols:

– signaling of the EPS network, allowing the mobile to attach, to update
its location, to establish sessions for the transport of IP packets and to
change cells during a session (handover);
– signaling of the IMS network, allowing the mobile to register, to
establish a session and to negotiate the media;
– DIAMETER signaling exchanged between, firstly, the EPS or IMS
networks, and, secondly, the environment of these networks.

Chapter 3 presents the different basic procedures:

– the attachment and the detachment of the mobile with the EPS network
and the establishment of the default bearer to transport SIP flows;
– the registration and the deregistration of the mobile with the IMS
network;
– the establishment and the release of VoLTE and ViLTE session.

Chapter 4 presents the characteristics of the radio interface, for which the
following features are described: data structure, transmission chain of the
physical layer, frequency time and space multiplexing.
 Preface xi

The same chapter also illustrates two procedures of the radio interface:
access control of the mobile to network and data transfer.

Chapter 5 presents the supplementary telephone and videophone services

offered by a particular entity of the IMS network, the telephony application
server (TAS).

These services include call forwarding, identity presentation, message

waiting indication, call hold, conference call, call waiting and call barring.

It also presents the characteristics of audio and video streams.

Chapter 6 presents the interconnection to the public switched telephone

network (PSTN) or to the public land mobile network (PLMN) (Figure 2).

PLMN
IP packet
EPS SIP IMS

UE PSTN
IP packet
A RTP

Figure 2. Interconnection to the PSTN and PLMN network

Chapter 6 also presents the interconnection of the IMS network with IMS
third-party networks.

Chapter 7 presents the mechanisms of intra-system and PS-PS inter-

system handover.

The intra-system handover is performed when the mobile changes cell

but does not change the 4G network concerned.

The PS-PS inter-system handover is performed when the mobile changes

cell and network but holds the PS mode. This type of handover is applied to
VoLTE or ViLTE services if the same functionality exists in the HSPA
evolution of 3G network.
xii VoLTE and ViLTE

Both handover modes are transparent to VoLTE and ViLTE services, the
movement of the mobile being masked for the IMS network.

Chapter 8 presents the roaming for which two routing methods of the
RTP streams are described:
– nominal routeing of the RTP stream that passes through the home
network;
– optimal routeing of the RTP stream that does not pass through the home
network.

Chapter 9 presents the centralization of services implemented by IMS

centralized services (ICS) that enables the IMS network to offer VoLTE and
ViLTE services regardless of the network where the mobile phone is
connected.

Chapter 9 also presents the continuity of services implemented by

function enhanced single radio voice call continuity (e-SRVCC) which
ensures that the communication is maintained in case of PS-CS (Circuit-
Switched) inter-system handover (Figure 3).

IMS

EPS

IP packet
SIP

2G / 3G Network IP packet
RTP

CS mode

Figure 3. PS-CS inter-system handover

 Preface xiii

Chapter 10 presents the two modes providing short message service

(SMS).

Short message service over SGsAP allows a mobile connected to the 4G

network to send and receive SMS in the CS mode.

Short message service over SIP is a supplementary telephone service

provided by the IMS network.

André PEREZ
April 2016
 List of Abbreviations

AAA Authorization-Authentication-Answer
AAR Authorization-Authentication-Request
ACA Accounting-Answer
ACM Address Complete Message
ACR Accounting-Request
AF Application Function
AIA Authentication-Information-Answer
AIR Authentication-Information-Request
AM Acknowledged Mode
AMBR Aggregate Maximum Bit Rate
AMR Adaptive Multi-Rate
AMR WB AMR Wide Band
ANM Answer Message
AOC Advice of Charge
APM Application transport Mechanism
APN Access Point Name
ARP Allocation and Retention Priority
ARQ Automatic Repeat Request
xvi VoLTE and ViLTE

AS Application Server
ASA Abort-Session-Answer
ASR Abort-Session-Request
ATCF Access Transfer Control Function
ATGW Access Transfer Gateway
ATU-STI Access Transfer Update – Session Transfer Identifier
AUTN Authentication Network

B2BUA Back-to-Back User Agent

BCCH Broadcast Control Channel
BCH Broadcast Channel
BCTP Bearer Control Tunnelling Protocol
BGCF Breakout Gateway Control Function
BICC Bearer Independent Call Control
BSR Buffer Status Report
BSS Base Station Sub-system

CA Carrier Aggregation
CAP Camel Application Part
CAT Customized Alerting Tone
CBP Constrained Baseline Profile
CC Component Carrier
CCA Credit-Control-Answer
CCBS Completion of Communications to Busy Subscriber
CCCH Common Control Channel
CCNL Completion of Communications on Not Logged-in
 List of Abbreviations xvii

CCNR Completion of Communications on No Reply

CCR Credit-Control-Request
CD Communication Deflection
CDF Charging Data Function
CDIV Communication Diversion
CDR Charging Data Record
CFB Communication Forwarding on Busy User
CFI Control Format Indicator
CFNL Communication Forwarding on Not Logged-in
CFNR Communication Forwarding on no Reply
CFU Communication Forwarding Unconditional
CGF Charging Gateway Function
CK Cipher Key
CLA Cancel-Location-Answer
CLR Cancel-Location-Request
CM Call Management
CMAS Commercial Mobile Alert System
CNG Comfort Noise Generation
CP Cyclic Prefix
CQI Channel Quality Indicator
CRI Contention Resolution Identity
C-RNTI Cell RNTI
CRS Customised Ringing Signal
CS Circuit-Switched
CSCF Call Session Control Function
CSFB CS FallBack
CTF Charging Trigger Function
CUG Closed User Group
CW Communication Waiting
xviii VoLTE and ViLTE

DCCH Dedicated Control Channel

DCI Downlink Control Information
DDA Delete-Subscriber-Data-Answer
DDR Delete-Subscriber-Data-Request
DEA DIAMETER Edge Agent
DL-SCH Downlink Shared Channel
DNS Domain Name System
DRB Data Radio Bearer
DM-RS Demodulation Reference Signal
DRA DIAMETER Routing Agent
DRX Discontinuous Reception
DSCP DiffServ Code Point
DTCH Dedicated Traffic Channel
DTX Discontinuous Transmission
DwPTS Downlink Pilot Time Slot

EATF Emergency Access Transfer Function

ECGI E-UTRAN Cell Global Identifier
E-CSCF Emergency-CSCF
ECT Explicit Communication Transfer
EM End Marker
EMM EPS Mobility Management
eNB evolved Node B
EPC Evolved Packet Core
EPS Evolved Packet System
E-RAB EPS Radio Access Bearer
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 List of Abbreviations xix

ESM EPS Session Management

e-SRVCC enhanced Single Radio Voice Call Continuity
ETWS Earthquake and Tsunami Warning System
E-UTRAN Evolved Universal Terrestrial Radio Access Network
EVS Enhanced Voice Services

FA Flexible Alerting
FB Full Band
FDD Frequency Division Duplex
FFT Fast Fourier Transform
FR Full Rate

GBR Guaranteed Bit Rate

GGSN Gateway GPRS Support Node
GMSC Gateway MSC
GP Gap Period
GPRS General Packet Radio Service
GSM Global System for Mobile
GTP-C GPRS Tunnel Protocol Control
GTP-U GPRS Tunnel Protocol User
GUTI Globally Unique Temporary Identity

HARQ Hybrid ARQ

HI HARQ Indicator
HII High Interference Indication
HLR Home Location Register
xx VoLTE and ViLTE

H-PCRF Home PCRF

HR Half Rate
HSS Home Subscriber Server
HTTP Hypertext Transfer Protocol

IAM Initial Address Message

IBCF Interconnection Border Control Function
ICB Incoming Communication Barring
ICS IMS Centralized Services
ICIC Inter-Cell Interference Coordination
I-CSCF Interrogating-CSCF
IDA Insert-Subscriber-Data-Answer
IDR Insert-Subscriber-Data-Request
IETF Internet Engineering Task Force
iFC initial Filter Criteria
IFFT Inverse Fast Fourier Transform
IK Integrity Key
IMPI IMS Private User Identity
IMPU IMS Public User Identity
IMRN IP Multimedia Routing Number
IMS IP Multimedia Sub-system
IMS-GWF IMS Gateway Function
IMSI International Mobile Subscriber Identity
IOI Interference Overload Indication
IP Internet Protocol
IPBCP IP Bearer Control Protocol
IPSec IP Security
IP-SM-GW IP Short Message Gateway
 List of Abbreviations xxi

IPX Internet Protocol eXchange

ISC IMS Service Control
ISIM IMS Services Identity Module
ISUP ISDN User Part
IWMSC Inter Working MSC

LAI Location Area Identifier

LCID Logical Channel Identifier
LIA Location-Info-Answer
LIR Location-Info-Request
LRF Location Retrieval Function
LTE Long Term Evolution

MAA Multimedia-Auth-Answer
MAC Media Access Control
MAR Multimedia-Auth-Request
MBR Maximum Bit Rate
MBSFN RS MBMS Single Frequency Network RS
MCC Mobile Country Code
MCCH Multicast Control Channel
MCH Multicast Channel
MCID Malicious Communication Identification
MGCF Media Gateway Control Function
MGW Multimedia Gateway
MIB Master Information Block
MIMO Multiple Input Multiple Output
MISO Multiple Input Single Output
xxii VoLTE and ViLTE

MME Mobility Management Entity

MNC Mobile Network Code
MP Main Profile
MRF Multimedia Resource Function
MRFC MRF Controller
MFRP MRF Processor
MSC Mobile-services Switching Centre
MDISDN Mobile Subscriber ISDN Number
MTCH Multicast Traffic Channel
MWI Message Waiting Indication

NAPT Network Address and Port Translation

NAPT-PT NAPT Protocol Translation
NAS Non Access Stratum
NB Narrow Band
NOA Notify-Answer
NOR Notify-Request

OCB Outgoing Communication Barring

OCS Online Charging System
OFCS Offline Charging System
OFDM Orthogonal Frequency-Division Multiplexing
OFDMA Orthogonal Frequency-Division Multiple Access
OIP Originating Identification Presentation
OIR Originating Identification Restriction
OMR Optimal Media Routeing
OTDOA Observed Time Difference of Arrival
 List of Abbreviations xxiii

PBCH Physical Broadcast Channel

PCC Policy and Charging Control
PCCH Paging Control Channel
PCEF Policy and Charging Enforcement Function
PCFICH Physical Control Format Indicator Channel
PCH Paging Channel
PCI Physical-layer Cell Identity
PCRF Policy Charging and Rules Function
P-CSCF Proxy-CSCF
PDCCH Physical Downlink Control Channel
PDCP Packet Data Convergence Protocol
PDN Packet Data Network
PDSCH Physical Downlink Shared Channel
PGW PDN Gateway
PHICH Physical HARQ Indicator Channel
PHR Power Headroom Report
PLMN Public Land Mobile Network
PMCH Physical Multicast Channel
PMI Precoding Matrix Indicator
PNA Push-Notification-Answer
PNR Push-Notification-Request
PPA Push-Profile-Answer
PPR Push-Profile-Request
PRACH Physical Random Access Channel
PRS Positioning Reference Signal
PS Packet-Switched
PSAP Public Safety Answering Point
PSI Public Service Identity
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 CHAPTER XXXVI

In the Pagoda and on the Bench

S O long as he may live Basil Gregory will never understand how

he lived through those hours in the pagoda—his last hours in the
pagoda by the lotus lake. So long as he lives he must remember
them, and shudder newly at each remembering—waiting again in
torture and alone to hear the deep-throated damnation of Wu Li
Chang’s gong telling him that—that he was branded forever, soul-
scarred. Wu Li Chang had hit upon something that not even a man
could forget.
How he got there he never knew. He remembered being taken to
the mandarin, the terrible interview, the news of Nang Ping’s death,
the demoniac threat of his mother’s ordeal and agony, but nothing of
his return to the pagoda. For a time—he had no way of knowing how
long or how brief—a merciful space of blank had been vouchsafed
him. And the utmost fury need not have grudged him it. For, if the
mother in the house suffered more than a death, the son in the
pagoda, when consciousness crept back, suffered her sufferings
multiplied. She was his mother, and he loved her. Always she had
been very good to him. And he had been so proud of her. Could he
ever feel quite that pride again? Her very sacrifice must smirch her in
the eyes of the son for whom it was made, and whose crime it
punished. Even his love for her must be a little tarnished, a little
weaker, after the clang out of that brazen gong. Wu Li Chang had
found a great revenge. His own honor had never burdened Basil
Gregory; but his mother’s honor—ah! Or, for that matter, even
Hilda’s, or his cousin May Gregory’s—for, like so many such men,
Basil Gregory leaned his soul (such as he had) and his pride upon
the women of his blood. To be virtuous vicariously is a positive talent
with some men.
His mother! He writhed. His mother! He tore against the pagoda’s
walls with his hands, all pinioned as they were—for his freed hand
was bound again—until his knuckles bled. If such punishment as Wu
had devised could be shown vividly, anticipatorily, to men about to
stray, the gravest of the social problems must be so somewhat
solved, the most stinging of the burning questions somewhat
answered. If sons, light, selfish, weak, could expect such
chastisement as Basil Gregory was enduring now, a famous
commandment would be honored in observance an hundredfold,
dishonored by breach miraculously less. A daughter’s shame—a
sister’s—that scourges most men; a wife’s—oh! well, there are wives
and wives, there are men and men, but a mother’s—ah! That
touches all manhood on its quick. Brand the scarlet initial of adultery
on his mother’s brow in punishment of him, and what son would
commit the fault? Fewer!
From the sun—for there were spaces pierced in the elaborate
stonework of the pagoda’s thick sides, and he could see through
some of them—he thought that he must have escaped nearly an
hour of the misery of consciousness.
Heaven knows the scene enacted in the smaller audience hall was
exquisitely terrible enough; but the man alone in the pagoda
pictured it ten times more terrible, more hideous, more stenched
than it was. Made an artist in fiendishness by his love for his child,
Wu was most fiendish, most exquisite, in his enmaddening
deliberateness. He drew out the woman’s agony until the sinews of
her soul seemed to crack and bleat. The hideous hour seemed an
age to her. To Basil, waiting alone in the pagoda, the hour seemed
ages piled on ages.
Alone? But no, he was not alone. This was Nang Ping’s pagoda.
She had given him “free” of it, and shared it with him. She shared it
with him still. A ghost—a girlish Chinese ghost—stood beside him
and looked at him adoringly, accusingly, with death and motherhood
in her eyes. “Oh! Nang Ping! Nang Ping! Forgive, forgive!” he cried,
and hid his face on his pinioned arm. Then he looked up with a cry—
wide-eyed, for he had seen his mother in the room he’d left, the
room where the gong was, and Wu—he saw his mother, and the
Chinese moving towards her, and he turned and cursed the girl-
ghost at his side—the poor dishonored ghost with a tiny nestling in
her arms.
Angry at punishment self-entailed, to shift, or seek to shift, the
blame, or some part of it, upon shoulders other than our own, is a
common phase of human frailty. “The woman tempted me.” And so
the fault is really hers. Punish the temptress and let me go. “The
woman tempted me”: it is the oldest and the meanest of the
complaints. But sadly often it is true enough.
A man never had less cause to urge it, in self-extenuation, or even
in explanation, than Basil Gregory had. Nang Ping had never
tempted him. Even in the consummation of their loves, the heyday
of her infatuation, she had never wooed him. In their first
acquaintance, contrived in part by him, brought about in part by a
fan of Low Soong’s, lost and found, Nang Ping had been as shy and
unassertive as a violet. She had never tempted except with her own
sweet reserve and the fragrant piquancy of her picturesque novelty.
And that she had not sought him, or, for some time, allowed him
advance, had been her chief charm for him. And on the day that he
had told her that he was returning to Europe, and at once, leaving
her to face their dilemma alone, she had uttered no reproach, made
no outcry—just a quiet expostulation abandoned as soon as made.
“You will not come back,” she had said quietly, and had gone from
him calmly, with dignity.
Never lover had less just cause to reproach mistress than he had
to reproach or blame Nang Ping. But for his mother’s sake, and, too,
perhaps, for his craven own, he did, and cursed the girl who had
died for him, as he raged futilely here in the pagoda, where he had
taken, and she had given, her all.
It is a big thing to be a manly man.
It is a tragedy to be a woman—except when it’s the very best of
great good luck.
 Very little of the good luck of life, very little of the joyousness of
womanhood, had ever been Ah Wong’s. All her life she had worked
hard for scant pay and no thanks. All her life she had yearned
passionately for companionship, and been lonely. From a brutal
father she had escaped to a brutal husband. Her children were dead,
and had not promised much while they lived. God knows, Mrs.
Gregory had given her little enough—almost nothing. And yet Mrs.
Gregory had given her her best time—the nearest approach to a
“good time” she’d ever known. And she was pathetically grateful to
have had even so much of creature comfort, such crumbs of
kindness, so shabby and lukewarm a sipping of the wine of life. The
Englishwoman did not even know that she had been kind to the
amah. Indeed, Ah Wong had merely warmed her cramped and
frozen being in the careless overflow of a nature that, by happy
accident, was full of sunshine and brimmed with radiance.
Ah Wong was grateful, and Ah Wong was honest. She meant to
repay. She hated debt; almost all Chinese do. She had loyalty. She
had grit. She had Chinese wit. And she had the light wrist of her sex
at subterfuge: it is world-wide.
Ejected from the house, she sat down contentedly in the courtyard
and began to knit—an industry foreign to Chinese eyes. It brought
curious women of the household about her. She had intended that it
should. They brought her liangkao and melon seeds—for hospitality
was the rule of the house—and she ate all the liangkao and cracked
all the melon seeds while the other women chattered to her and to
each other.
She said that she was very tired—her lady was a hard
taskmistress. She didn’t like the English. She was very tired, but
she’d like to see something of so beautiful a place, now that she was
here, and she tottered about a little wearily from treasure to
treasure, but never far from the house, from tiny forest trees a few
inches high, in pots the size of thimbles, to an evergreen that was a
century old and that had its widest branches cut into birds in full
flight. She cried out in ecstasy at a great dragon sprawling on the
grass, a dragon of geraniums and foliage plants. And presently she
yawned and said that she was very tired, and sat down heavily on a
carved stone bench. After a little she fell asleep, and the women
giggled at her good-naturedly and left her. The bench was not far
from the window that high up looked into the mandarin’s sitting-
room.
 CHAPTER XXXVII

The Fan

“
ITgong.
is growing dark,” Wu said, as he put the sword down beside the

Three other servants followed Ah Sing through the sliding door

that he had opened from the other side. Two were tea-bearers and
the other a servant of the lamps.
The tray of tea was laid on the table. The lamp-man moved about
the room, and a dozen dim lights broke out, like disks of radiant
alabaster, so dim, so beautiful, and so unexpectedly placed that their
shrouded brilliance made the wonderful room seem even eerier than
before.
The woman watched it all, inert and motionless. She felt, without
thinking about it—she was almost worn past thinking now—how
more than useless it would be to appeal to these wooden-faced
Chinese, the creatures and automatons of Wu Li Chang. And an
instinct of dignity that was very English held her from making to
foreign servants a prayer that would, she knew, be denied. She
would make no exhibition of a plight they would not pity or of an
emotion that would not move them—unless it moved them to mirth.
But when, their service done, the servants went out, soft-footed
as they had come, and after the door closed, bolts clanged, she
realized that she and Wu were again alone—the room locked—and
she sprang up and dashed to the door.
Wu watched her, smiling. “Come,” he said—almost as he might
have spoken to a restless child—“tea is served.”
And she turned, in obedience to his voice, and looked at him. “I
couldn’t, Mr. Wu,” she said with plaintive petulance, “I couldn’t
possibly.” The distress in her voice was more than the annoyance.
Wu ignored her words good-naturedly, and began pouring out the
tea. “I have sugar and cream, you see, quite in the Western way.”
“No—no, I couldn’t,” she reiterated impatiently, but coming back to
the table and watching the cups as he filled them. “Please tell me of
my son and let me go.”
For answer, the mandarin held out to her a cup of tea. “Pray take
this cup of tea, Mrs. Gregory,” he said with grave politeness. “Oh! I
understand,” he added with a slight, chill smile, when she paid no
attention to the cup he proffered her. He put it down. “You would
prefer to see me drink first.” With an inclination of his head to her,
he lifted his own cup and drained it at a draught. “So! perhaps that
will reassure you.” He put his cup down and refilled it. “Pray take the
tea,” he urged hospitably: “it will not only be refreshing—and your
lips look dry and parched—but it will also be a politeness to do so.”
She stood looking at him dully, and then sank slowly down on to a
stool.
“Sugar—and—cream,” the mandarin said brightly. There was more
of Mayfair and of Oxford in tone and in manner than there was of
Cathay. And the anachronism was gruesome rather than droll, as he
stood in his mandarin’s robes fanning himself with his left hand (the
sons of Han are more nearly ambidextrous than they of any other
race) and with his right hand plying the silver sugar-tongs with slow
dexterity. “So!” he held out the perfected cup. “It is the choicest
growth of the Empire, Mrs. Gregory, sun-dried with the flowers of
jasmine.”
She took the cup, and he took up his. Just as she was forcing
herself to drink—his own cup almost to his lip—he said with the
same suave manner, “Have you no curiosity, Mrs. Gregory, to learn
the name”—a poisonous change came in his voice—“of my
daughter’s seducer?”
The Englishwoman put down her cup quickly, with a hand so
unnerved and trembling that it scarcely served to guide its small
burden. She tried to drop her eyes, but she couldn’t—he held them
with his relentlessly. “I don’t understand you,” she faltered. “Your—
your manner is so strange.”
Wu said nothing, but he smiled into her gaze coldly, and she rose
with a shudder. Wu smiled at her still, and with a sudden wild cry
she darted to the sliding doors and beat on them hysterically. But
she realized at once that they were locked and were strong. And she
turned around, at bay but hopeless, leaning her back against the
door, and faced Wu miserably, her smarting hands hanging limp at
her sides.
Wu Li Chang unfolded his fan and began to churn the air towards
his face with it.
No European ever has understood what his fan means to a
Chinese. Probably no European ever will be able to understand that.
With their fans the Chinese hide emotion, express emotion, and,
when it reaches the danger point, give it vent. Often a Chinese
man’s frail, tiny fan is his safety valve. China’s greatest warriors have
carried their fans into battle. Criminals fan themselves on the
execution ground. Frightened Chinese girls, in the torment of first
child-birth, fan themselves. Wu was fanning himself in triumph. And
he spoke to her quickly, his voice ringing with triumph. “There are
several ways into this room, Mrs. Gregory, but only one way out.”
The fan shut with an ominous click—a rattle of ivory, a hiss and a
rustle of silk. “It lies by that door”—he pointed it with his fan
—“which leads to my own inner chamber.”
The woman smothered a scream, but she could not smother a
groan.
Wu laughed. He took a step towards her. “Have you no desire to
hear my news of your son?” he asked softly. “Good news? I
promised that you should—I am here to keep my promise.” The
terrible significance of his words could not have been clearer, but he
emphasized it hideously by gliding still a little nearer to the stricken,
appalled woman.
“Oh! don’t torture me,” she implored, moving away.
“He is well—comparatively. His hands have received a trifling
injury—quite trifling. But he is quite well”—nearing the woman again
—“and he is here.”
“Here?” she sobbed, “here?”
“Almost within sound of your voice”—still nearer.
“O my God! where?” she cried, looking about her frantically. The
third door caught her attention, and she ran to it weakly and beat
against it, crying, “Basil! Basil!”
“Do not be so impetuous, dear lady,” Wu said with insolent
gentleness; “I did not say he was there. And it is not good that he
should hear your voice, for the sound would only distress him.”
She looked at Wu questioningly, and he gave her the cruel
explanation. “You see, he is not at liberty to come until the right
signal is given. It lies with you whether that signal shall be given or
not!” He was very close to her now.
Wu Li Chang intended to use no physical force with this woman.
He would not grant her degradation even that poor loop-hole of
excuse.
That she would yield, he had no doubt. And her own tortured soul
knew that it wavered now, and it was sick.
Wu laid his hand on her arm. And she scarcely shrank back, but
drew herself up, proud in her sorrow, and said slowly in his smiling
face, “You—you devil!”
“Harsh words will not help him, Mrs. Gregory,” the mandarin said.
“Only one thing can.” Face almost brushed face—they were so close.
She hid hers in her hands and sobbed in fear.
“I will leave you whilst you decide,” Wu said, and turned to the
door that was, he had told her, her only way “out.”
In a sudden frenzy and palsied with nausea, she dashed at the
other doors, sobbing, “Let me go!”—panting—“let me go, I tell you!”
Wu watched her a little before he said calmly, still smiling gravely,
“This door is the only door which remains unlocked. If you should
decide to enter it before I return, I should not be unresponsive to
the honor you will do me. If not, I shall return soon myself—to assist
you, if I may, to decide.”
 “My husband knows that I have come here!” Mrs. Gregory cried
defiantly. “I told him!” (Wu smiled.) “He will be here at any moment,
and then——! Oh! I am not afraid of you!”
“Oh! I am glad of that!” Wu Li Chang said eagerly, “I desire only to
inspire trust—and confidence—and the tenderest sympathy! But I
know that your husband—that amiable, estimable Mr. Gregory—an
odd, subtle creature, but so lovable—does not know you are here.
You have not the remotest hope of seeing him—or you would not
have told me! You would have temporized—delayed—said nothing.”
“He does know!” she stormed. “He may be here at any moment!
And if he is not admitted he will batter your gates and doors down!”
The mandarin laughed softly and shook his head at her
indulgently.
“You scoundrel!” she told him, infuriated.
“Oh! I forgive your trying to deceive me, Mrs. Gregory,” Wu said
calmly; “it is only natural. Oh! that window,” he added, in answer to
an involuntary look toward it. “Yes, it leads out on to the courtyard
where your devoted servant is waiting; but the architect has placed
it so very high, and has made it so very small. Now”—he made her a
little bow—“I will leave you, but not for long.” And he passed
through the unlocked door and closed it behind him very gently.
 CHAPTER XXXVIII

The Gong

D ISTRACTED, not knowing what she did, or why, like some wild
thing trapped and helpless, Florence Gregory looked about the
room, searching it with eyes almost too fright-blinded for sight.
Again she tried the doors—all but one. She made a desperate,
useless effort to push the window apart. “Basil!” she cried, “Basil!”
Then she checked herself. “No! I mustn’t do that! O God!” she
moaned, turning to driven humanity’s last great resort, “help me!”
She groped her way unsteadily across the room, and climbed with
trembling legs upon the bench and reached her hands up toward the
little window.
“No,” she sobbed in a whisper, “I can’t,” for she could not reach to
half the opening’s height. She looked about her stealthily, rose on
her very tiptoes, and called towards the window, “Ah Wong! Ah
Wong! can you hear me? Go quickly, for the love of Heaven! Fetch
them! Help me, Ah Wong! Help me! I am alone, Ah Wong—but he
will be back—very soon. Quick, amah, quick! Ah Wong, are you
there?”
And then she waited.
Oh! that waiting.
There was no sound except the panting of her heart. From Wu’s
inner room nothing came but silence. The house and the garden
were midnight-still.
Ah!
Through the window came a sound so soft it scarcely grazed the
silence.
 Something fell, almost noiselessly, at her feet. She swooped upon
it with a smothered sob of thankfulness. It was her own scarf. Her
hands shook so she could scarcely unroll it for the message or the
help it hid. She knew it hid one or the other, or Ah Wong would not
have thrown it. Or was it only a signal that the other woman heard
her? With her eyes riveted in agony on Wu’s door, her heart beating
almost to her suffocation, her cold fingers worked distractedly at the
matted gauze. Yes—there was something there. Oh! Ah Wong! Ah
Wong! It was something hard and small.
She looked at the tiny phial wonderingly. But only for a moment.
Then she knew. And her white face grew whiter. The last drop of
coward blood dripped back from her quivering lips. Poison, of
course! Must she? Dared she? Could she? And Basil? The boy that
she had borne—her son and chum. Should she desert him so? Save
her honor and leave him to death and to long fiendish torture ten
thousand times worse than death? Was any price too great, too
hideous to pay for his rescue from such burning hell? To so save
herself at such cost to him, was not that an even greater dishonor
than the other? The woman began to whimper, like some terrified
child. And could she die? Could she face such death? Here—all alone
—in China? God hear her prayer!—she could not think to word it.
God have mercy! Life was sweet—the sun warm on the grass. And
there were cowslips in the meadows at home, and the lilacs were
wine-sweet, and the roses wine-red against the sun-drenched old
stone wall in the vicarage garden—in England.
She tottered, sobbing silently, across the room, clutching the phial
in her ice-cold hand.
England! At the thought of England she stiffened—proudly. She
was English—and a woman. English and a woman: the two proudest
things under Heaven. Basil must suffer. The body that had borne him
must not, even for him, be dishonored. The unalterable chastity of
centuries of gentle womanhood reasserted itself and claimed her—
pure of soul, pure of body—claimed her and made her proud and
strong as it had the English women of an earlier day who threw
themselves rejoicing upon the horns of the Roman cattle rather than
yield themselves—English women—to the lust of the Roman
legionaries. As Abraham had prepared to sacrifice Isaac—Abraham!
Abraham was only a man, only a father. She was a woman—she was
a mother—and English!
With a smile as cold as any smile of Wu’s, and more superb than
smile ever ermined on the lip of man—she looked about for means:
determined now—yet hoping still against hope for escape. She would
die. Oh yes! she would die—here—now. But she hoped the stuff was
not too bitter. She drew out the cork and smelt the liquid. It had no
smell. Or had fright paralyzed her gift of smell? And all her senses?
Her fingers could scarcely feel the glass they clutched. And need she
drink it yet? Help might come. Surely Ah Wong had gone! But dared
she wait? Wu would be back. Hark! Was he coming? Did his door
move? He must not see her drink it. He would prevent her. But need
she die quite yet?
She saw the cup of tea she had put down, and gave a little gasp
of hope: at such poor straws do we clutch!
Yes—yes—she’d pour the poison into her tea—and drink it, if she
must!
The cup was full. She drank a little chokingly. That was enough.
Room now! She looked in terror at Wu’s door, then emptied the tiny
phial into her cup.
Wu’s cup did not occur to her—she was too distraught.
Shaking pitifully, she wound the scarf again about the little bottle
and dropped both into a satsuma vase.
She tottered gropingly back to her seat beside the table, the
poisoned cup close to her hand. “My God!” she whispered, not to
herself, “if it must come to that, give me strength.”
Until the door opened and Wu came in, she sat cowering, her eyes
riveted on her cup, her fingers knotting and unknotting in her lap,
and under the lace of her sleeve the costly jewel she had worn to
pay honor to Sing Kung Yah winked and danced.
She did not look up at the mandarin’s step, and for a space he
stood and studied her, hatred and contempt for Basil Gregory’s
mother ugly on his face, pity for his vicarious victim—and she a
woman—in his Chinese eyes. And in his heart there was self-pity too:
his sacrificial office was in no way to the liking of Wu Li Chang. He
was sacrificing to his ancestors and to his gods. But the flesh reeking
from his priestly knife, hissing in the fire, smoking on the altar of his
tremendous rage, was repugnant to his appetite, a stench in the
nostrils of this Chinese.
He wore now loosened garments of crimson crêpe—color and stuff
an Empress might don for her bridal. He carried no fan. It was laid
away. But on the hem of his gorgeous negligée a border of peacocks’
feathers was embroidered, each plume the fine work of an artist.
“Well, chère madame!” he said softly, and then she looked up and
saw him and his relentless purpose, and shrank back with a little
moan.
Wu smiled and drew nearer. “Do I now find favor in your eyes?” he
murmured wickedly—insinuation and masterly in his honeyed tone.
“No? Oh! unhappy Wu Li Chang! My heart bleeds, stabbed by your
coldness, you lovely and oh! so desired English creature, you fair, fair
rose of English womanhood. Ah! well—I have no vanity, luckily for
me, and so that is not hurt also, since it does not exist. One
important matter,” he said, almost at his side, drawing slowly nearer
still, “I did not mention. It is only fair that you should understand
fully my terms—only fair to say that your son knows that your
sacrifice will set him free——”
Florence Gregory rose to her feet. She searched his face. “You—
you will set him free?”
Wu Li Chang bowed his head in promise. And she did not for one
instant doubt his word. It was her unconscious tribute paid to his
individuality—and, too, it was tribute of Christian Europe to heathen
China. Undeserved? That’s as you read history and the sorry story of
the treaty ports. Verdicts differ.
“That, of course, is understood—and pledged,” the mandarin said
quietly, “when—you—have paid—his debt.”
She shuddered sickly. Wu smiled, and then his choler broke a little
through its smooth veneer. “It is just payment I exact—no jot of
usury: virtue for virtue. I might have seized your daughter—for
myself, or to toss to one of my servants—but that could not have
been payment in full. You, you in your country, you of your race,
prize virginity above all else; we hold maternity to be the highest
expression of human being, and the most sacred. So, because he
took what should have been most sacred in the eyes of an English
gentleman—and he a guest, both in my daughter’s country and in
her home—I take what is, in my eyes, a higher, purer thing—and I
your host. And, too”—his voice hissed and quivered with hate—“the
degradation of his sister would not have afflicted him enough—he
does not love his sister with any great love. His love of you, his
mother, is the one quality of manhood in his abominable being. He
would have suffered at her shame and outlived the pain; yours he
will remember while he lives—and writhe. It will spoil his life, make
every hour of his life more bitter than any death, every inch of earth
a burning hell.” He paused and waited, and then—he slid behind the
table, put his arms about the palsied woman, and whispered,
pointing to the other room, his face brushing hers, “And now, dear
lady, will you not come to me?”
For an instant they two stood so—she paralyzed, unable to move.
Music high and sublimely sweet pierced through the shuttered
window: a nightingale was singing in Nang Ping’s garden, near the
pagoda by the lotus lake. Wu Li Chang had heard many nightingales,
and from his babyhood. Florence Gregory had heard but one before
—once, long ago, in England.
She wrenched away from Wu with a cry—of despair; and he let
her go.
She sank on to her stool and took up her cup—she tried to do it
meaninglessly—and slowly raised it to her lips.
“Oh!” Wu told her tenderly, “my lips also are dry and parched with
the heat of my desire——”
But he had no desire of her. And even in her torment she knew it,
and that in the coldness of his intention lay the inflexibility of her
peril.
“I too would drink.” He lifted up his own cup. “Ah!” he exclaimed,
putting it quickly down again, “I see that you have sipped from your
cup—your lips have blessed its rim.” Standing behind her, he slipped
his hands slowly about her neck, took her cup in them, and lifted it
over her head, and faced her. “Let me also drink from the cup that
has touched your lovely lips.”
With a cruel look of mock love—to torment her even this little
more, and in no way because he suspected the contents of either
cup—with a slow look into her terror-dilating eyes, he slowly drained
the cup. And Florence Gregory watched him, motionless, horror-
stricken—scarcely realizing that he had given her her release—by a
way it had not occurred to her even to attempt.
“So,” Wu said, putting down the cup, “I have paid you the highest
compliment. For I do not like your sugar or your cream. Indeed, I
cannot imagine how any one can spoil the delicious beverage——”
His voice broke on the word. Something gurgled in his throat. “It
was even nastier than I thought,” he whispered hoarsely.
Suddenly he reeled. He staggered and caught at the table’s edge.
Had he gone drunk, he wondered, with the intoxication of his
smothered, inexorable rage? The room was spinning like a top
plaything. His head ached. He thought a vein must burst. The room
was turning more maddeningly now—like a dervish at the climax of
his dance. And he was spinning too—not with the room but in a
counter-circle. He tottered to a stool and sank on to it, his face
horribly contorted with pain.
Mrs. Gregory moaned, half in fear for herself, half in horror at the
ugly agony from which she could not take her eyes. She moaned,
and then Wu knew.
He gripped the table with hands as contorted as his face, and
leaned towards her muttering in his own Chinese words of terrible
imprecation of her and hers. Curses and hatred beyond words even
the most terrible blazed from his dying eyes.
He was dying like a dog—outwitted by an Englishwoman. And
then he laughed, a laugh more terrible than the death-rattle already
crackling in his throat like spun glass burning or dry salt aflame: the
damnéd burning may laugh so. Dying like a pariah dog! He laughed
with glee—hell’s own mirth; for now the signal would never be given,
the Englishman would never go free. He would starve and rot in
Nang Ping’s pagoda. Did she realize that? Oh! for the strength to
make her know it! But only Chinese words would come to his
thickening tongue or to his reeling brain. Of all that he had learned
or known of English, or of the England where he had lived so long,
nothing was left him—nothing but his hate.
Was it for this—this death degraded and worse than alone, no son
to worship at his tomb—that Wu Ching Yu had banished him to exile
and to excruciating homesickness?
Where was the old sword? He would slay this foreign devil where
she stood. Who was she? Why was she here—here in the room with
the tablets of his ancestors? Who was she? Ah! he remembered
now: she was the mother-pig—the foul thing that had borne the
seducer of Nang Ping!
With a hideous yell, with a supreme effort, he tottered to his feet
and lunged at her with his writhing hands outstretched like claws,
his feet fumbling beneath him.
She shrank back in terror, and raised her arm as if to ward off a
blow.
And the jewel on her arm slipped down and flashed and blazed
and jangled on her wrist.
And Wu Li Chang knew it. His eyes were glazing now and setting
in death, but he knew her too. He remembered now—Oxford, the
purgatory of Portland Place, the country vicarage, an organ he’d
given a church, an English girl he had liked and befriended in a
gentle, reverent way. And this—this—was the reaping of the
kindness and the tolerance he had sown—in England!
Rage heroic and terrible convulsed and nerved him. With an effort
that almost tore the sinews of his passing soul asunder he turned
and looked—yes—there it was—he wanted it—he reached it—and
with a scream of fury he caught it up—the sword—and lunged again
at the woman cringing and panting there—he gained upon her—she
screamed and ran from him feebly—he followed—he lifted the great
weapon and clove the air—he struck out wildly with it again, and
again cut only the air.
 Twice they circled the room—she sobbing in terror, he blubbering
with rage and with the agony of death.
Ah! he had almost reached her. One more effort!—he knew it was
his last.
He raised the sword with both his hands, raised it above his head,
and struck.
It only missed her, and in missing her it struck the gong—once,
then twice.
At the tragedy of that miscarriage, life throbbed again through all
his tortured pores. Meaning to kill, he had saved. And he had
released the Englishman. That knowledge broke his heart—a mighty
Chinese heart—the great heart of the mandarin Wu Li Chang.
For a moment he stood very still, motionless but not quelled,
silent, superb in his defeat. And then he fell, and moved no more.

When Florence Gregory looked about her—when she was able to—
the doors were open, and the wide window opened noiselessly from
without. No one had entered the room. They were quite alone, she
and what had been Wu Li Chang. And there was not a sound except
the love-sick ecstasy of a nightingale singing his devoted desire
through the jasmine-scented garden.
Very slowly, horror-stricken, watching him till the last, she crept
from the room, leaving it, by chance, through the door at which she
had entered it.
She had aged in that room.
 CHAPTER XXXIX

Afterwards

A S she passed from the house into the garden, moving crazily on
—not knowing why, how or where—the frenzied mother met her
son coming blindly toward the door, his arms still trussed at his
sides.
Neither could speak.
But a Chinese woman, coming to them stealthily through the
gloaming, spoke as she reached them. “Clome, me tlake,” she said.
And almost literally she did take them, one on either side of her,
each touched by her hand, impelled by her will.
“No talk,” she whispered sternly.
But she need not have said it. Neither of them had word or voice.
They met no one. They heard nothing—except once the far-off
trilling of a nightingale, telling the day good-by.
For such was the quality of Wu Li Chang. He had commanded the
servants to their quarters, on the other side of the estate, when they
should have undone the doors and gates.
But Ah Wong did not slacken her anxious pace, or let them slacken
theirs, until the shore was almost reached.
Then, just before they were within sight of the waiting boat and of
the boatmen’s eyes, she stopped and untied Basil’s arms. It was not
easy work, although she had a knife. And Mrs. Gregory could give no
help.
They stumbled into the boat as best they could, but not without
aiding hands, the mother and son. Ah Wong scrambled in nimbly.
And at a word from her the watermen lifted their poles—and they
had left Kowloon.
They leaned against each other, the English mother and her boy,
as the small craft crossed the bay, but not a word was spoken by
either of them or to either of them. They huddled together dumb
with relief and with exhaustion, and almost numb with the horror
they had known.
Unobtrusive, stolid, commonplace in manner as in her humble
amah garb, Ah Wong directed and enforced everything.
Ten million stars came out and specked with diamond dust the
grave, blue sky. The moon came up and rippled with silver and with
gold the rippling water. And before the night-flowers of Kowloon had
ceased to lave their faces with the fragrance which was “good-night,”
the fragrance of the night-flowers of Hong Kong Island rushed out to
them and buffeted them with sweetness.
The world was very placid. The night was radiant. The night was
very still. And the smiling indifference of the night was cruel. At
least, the English woman felt it so. Basil felt nothing. Ah Wong was
scheming.
She disembarked them. She paid the boatmen. She tidied her
mistress, and tidied Basil as best she could. She got them up the
Peak, and she smuggled them into the hotel at last, almost
unobserved.
“Too tlired talk to-night,” she told Hilda imperatively. And she said
it as imperatively to Robert Gregory himself when he hurried in from
the office in answer to Hilda’s telephoned good news.
It was Ah Wong who sent the news of Basil Gregory’s safe return
spreading like wildest fire through gossipy Hong Kong—not only the
news of the return but the detailed story of his absence. It was a
very pretty story, and beautifully simple: nothing more out of the
common than a slightly sprained ankle and an undelivered chit. The
chit had been entrusted to one vellee bad coolie man—needless to
say, a victim of the opium habit of which one hears so much in
books on China and sees so absurdly little in China itself. Some
believed the story—as started by Ah Wong—some did not. But it
might have been true (a merit such fabrications often lack) and it
served, although one cynic at the English Club said of it that it
reminded him of the curate’s celebrated egg, “quite good in parts.”
And John Bradley wondered.
But the next day the Gregorys and their affairs were well-nigh
forgotten in the greater flare of news that flamed from the mainland.
Mr. Wu was dead, and so was his daughter, an only child. She had
died suddenly, and the shock had killed him—his heart, you know—
fatty degeneration, probably—all those rich Chinamen over-eat.
Again, some believed the story as it was told, and more did not.
But Wu had died on the mainland, not on English soil, and it was no
one’s business in Hong Kong.
John Bradley’s face grew very stern when he heard that Wu Li
Chang had “become a guest on high,” and he went at once to
Kowloon. And, almost to his surprise, Ah Sing admitted him. The
mandarin would have commanded it so, Ah Sing thought.
Bradley learnt nothing on the mainland. He saw his dead friend,
and prayed an English prayer beside him, kneeling down between
him and a grinning, long, red-tongued Chinese god. That was all.
When he reached his own bungalow, he went into his tiny study,
locked its door, and knelt again—at the prie-Dieu that stood against
the wall between the little silver crucifix and an engraving of a
tender, sorrowful face beneath a crown of thorns.
Between the elder Gregory’s relief at his son’s return and his
exultation at Wu’s death, the younger Gregory came off nearly scot-
free of paternal reprimand, and quite free of any real parental wrath.
“Where the very dickens have you been?” was the father’s
greeting when they met at breakfast. “A pretty state we’ve been in!
—upsetting the entire family—and me—and the business! You shall
answer to me for this, young man. Why the devil don’t you pass that
toast?”
“I’ve—I’ve only been a short trip, pater, off the island,” Basil
replied, not greatly perturbed.
“I’ll short trip you!” the father said with beetling brows; and the
tone in which he laconically said, “More,” as he thrust his coffee cup
to Hilda was very fierce indeed, but he winked at her with just the
corner of his left eye; Basil was on his other side. And presently
Robert Gregory chuckled openly as he helped himself to marmalade.
And when he was leaving the table he slapped his boy on the back,
but not too roughly.
“Dead broke?” he demanded.
Basil was about to say, “No, indeed!” but he caught Ah Wong’s
sudden eye, and said instead, “Well, yes, I’m afraid I am rather.”
Robert Gregory chuckled again. “I’ve a damned good notion to
send you home in the steerage—jolly good idea; and while I’m
thinking it over, you’d better mind your P’s and your little Q’s. Show
up at the office about three, and I dare say I’ll be ass enough to find
you a fiver.”
Hilda followed her father to the door. She always “saw him off.”
Ah Wong at the sideboard continued to select tit-bits for the tray
she was going to carry to her mistress’s room. She intended, by fair
means or by foul, to coax Florence Gregory to eat.
Basil pushed back his plate. He had been pretending to eat, but
the food was revolting.
He was longing to see his mother, and he was dreading it. They
had not spoken together yet.
He was terribly anxious to know if there were any truth in the
report of Wu’s death. Probably Ah Wong knew. He looked at her
curiously as she carried her tray away; but somehow he could not
question her.
On the whole, he wished his mother would send for him and get it
over. This suspense was only a little less terrible than his suspense in
the pagoda had been.
But all Robert Gregory’s anxieties were laid. He reached the office
in high good humor. Government House confirmed the rumor of Wu’s
death. And Gregory felt assured that, his formidable (for the Chink
had been formidable) rival wiped out, the only heavy disasters that
had ever threatened his own almost monotonously successful
business career would disperse under his astute, firm management
as summer clouds beneath the sun, and that disaster would not
menace him again.
And by the time he reached the club for lunch, he was quite too
highly pleased with himself and with his world, and more particularly
with his share in it, to keep up any longer even a pretended anger at
his son. He chuckled boastfully over “the usual sort of escapade,”
and said he’d “be glad to get the rascal home—back in sober old
England”—“no harm done”—“devil of a good time, no doubt; hadn’t
got a yen, and only had his allowance eight days ago, a quarterly
allowance, and the Lord Harry only knows how much he’s bled his
mother!” “But, after all”—and then he delivered himself of the
amazing originality that “Boys will be boys!”
If there are many men who like to be virtuous vicariously, there
are a few, even odder specimens of our wonderfully variegated
humanity, who like to sin—in one direction—by proxy. Robert
Gregory, in the big thing of life, was an exemplary husband. If
Florence Gregory dwelt but in the suburbs of his good pleasure, he
lived—in the one sense—on an island on to which no other woman
ever put her foot. The Gregory Steamship Company was his adored
mistress and his wedded wife. But Florence came next nearest to his
warmth—and she had no human rival, never had had or would have
one. She knew this. Even a much duller woman must have known it.
And perhaps it had enabled her to hold up her head and go smiling
through some hard years of disillusion and chagrin.
But Robert Gregory had a very soft spot in his stupid heart for his
boy’s gallantries. Secretly he was not a little proud of them—of
course, they mustn’t go too far or cost too much—and of this last
escapade he almost boasted as he smoked his after-tiffin cigar—
boasted with an unctuous hint of reminiscent glee that insinuated—
and was meant to—that he’d been a bit gay “in the same old way” in
his younger days.
Which most emphatically he had not.
 CHAPTER XL

A Guest on High

A ND in the K’o-tang—the smaller audience hall—where he had

died, Wu Li Chang lay as he had fallen. For none had dared to
disturb him for a long time, unless he summoned them. And now,
discovered by an early sweeper whose duty it was to open the
casements to the summer dawn, he still lay undisturbed, and would
lay so until the soothsayer had determined to where the body should
be lifted and just how.
He lay upon his back, his face lifted to the paneled and painted
ceiling.
Almost as Florence Gregory’s footsteps died from his house, a
great change swept his face. The contortions of poisoned death had
left it set and agonized. That passed away. He was smiling when
they found him, as even Nang Ping had never seen him smile. Only
one had ever seen that look upon his face. And she had only seen it
once—in quite the fullness of its beauty, the majesty of its
declaration, all its exquisite tenderness. A living man smiles so but
once. Some men never smile so—they have frittered its possibility
away—some of them, and some are small men, and it is not for
them. It is a hall-mark.
It is a hall-mark, and now and again death stamps it caressingly
and regally upon some dead man’s face; and always he is a man
who has put up a fine good fight, and always it tells that there is
marriage in Heaven.
Wu Lu had seen that smile—once—in Sze-chuan; and now, in that
near garden-place where she had waited for him all these years, he
took her in his arms and held her close; and she gave all herself to
him again. And he looked down and smiled at her, his bride.
Wu Li Chang lay dead on the K’o-tang floor, and his face was very
beautiful.